The Angel from my Nightmare
by druggo-frog
Summary: Harry is in love, but believes he cannot tell her because it will endanger her. When he is driven into new ways to deal with things, how can his friends help him out of his depression and get him to enjoy life? SUMMARY HAS CHANGED! Rated R for later chapt
1. If only you knew

I don't own stuff

Chapter 1 – If only you knew

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room and stared blankly into the fire. He couldn't remember a time when he had felt any worse. The pressure of being the only person who could truly face Voldemort was building up, and no one knew how he felt. Ron said what he could to help, but it was little comfort considering what he was facing. And then there was Hermione. He loved her more than he could express in any way, but she couldn't know. If they got together, it would only give her more pain when he died. It drove him insane, feeling what he did and knowing he couldn't take it anywhere. He couldn't tell Ron either, because he was sure that Ron felt the same about her. Harry knew he shouldn't be thinking of what he was, that suicide wasn't the answer, but he couldn't help it. Ron had caught him in the dormitory running his thumb down a beautifully crafted blade. He still had it, locked away in his trunk. It was very thin, less than a millimetre, and shined brightly when trapped under the light. It had a dragon chipped into the side, a Norwegian Ridgeback in fact. It looked magnificent, breathing flame right down the length of the knife. Harry smiled grimly. Apparently the dragon that the craftsman had used to copy that carving was an 'old friend', Hagrids no longer baby dragon, Norbert, that he had bought in their first year. Ron walked into the common room, Hermione at his heels. They had been doing prefect duties, and that left Harry with plenty of time to think. He looked up as they entered, and as soon as he saw Hermione, looked back down quickly, with pain written all over his face.

"Hey Harry," Ron said. Harry greeted him with a mumble and didn't look at either of them.

Hermione sat across from him and looked at him in a concerned manner. "Harry, are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, fine. Nothing wrong whatsoever. Why do you ask?"

"You look… sad. I'm worried."

"Well don't be."

"But I am Harry. You're always quiet and distant nowadays. It's not like you."

Ron gave Harry a glance but said nothing. Harry met his eyes and sent a look intended to say _leave it_. Ron nodded and Harry replied to Hermione, once again not looking at her.

"Really Hermione there's nothing wrong with me. Obviously I've got things on my mind, but nothing important." _Oh, Hermione, if only you knew what I meant by that…_

She frowned, but only said "well alright. I'm going to bed. Night."

Goodnight," called Ron.

_Sweet dreams_, thought Harry.

**Paragraph Break**

There she was, walking towards him, the light shining behind her making her look like an angel. He watched in wonder, her lips forming the words "I love you." Suddenly the light behind her changed to green, her eyes widened, and she fell forwards without a sound. There he was behind where she had stood, cackling and throwing her body around like a rag.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

Harry sat up so fast he hit his head on the top of his four-poster. Panting hard, he checked to see if he'd woken anyone else. Though he noticed Ron's eyes weren't quite shut, no one else was awake and he said nothing. Instead he got up, walked over to the water jug and took a large drink. Then he sat and stared out the window. Why did he have these nightmares? He couldn't stand them, seeing Hermione die every night. He also hated them because they reminded him that he could never have her. They showed him that if he did, Voldemort and his Death Eaters would kill her. He hadn't even told Ron about these dreams, and he wasn't planning on it anytime soon. He sighed and went back to bed.

Paragraph Break 

Ron got up early and went to the Great Hall. He sat pondering over a bowl of porridge. He was unnerved by Harry lately. Every night since the start of term Harry had woken screaming. Ron pretended to be asleep every time, but he was getting very worried. He was loyal enough to Harry to not tell Hermione, but he was starting to think he had to do something. He sat formulating possible plans until they came into the hall.

"Hey guys. What's up?"

"Morning Ron," replied Harry.

"Nothing much," added Hermione. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, just thinking about something."

Harry looked up at this, but had already continued. "Can you believe it? SNAPE is taking our Divination class! Snape of all people!"

_Great,_ thought Harry, looking back down at his porridge. _Just what I need. In Trelawney's class it was fairly relaxed, I could jump out the window she'll say it was just fate catching up with me. It'll be much worse with Snape around, even if he isn't predicting my death every ten seconds. If I leave my seat I'll be given detention. _"What else have we got today? I've lost my timetable."

Ron reached for his bag, but Hermione already had hers. "Well we've got Transfiguration, Potions, then you two go to Divination while I'm at Ancient Runes, then we finish with Charms."

Harry sighed. "Joyous."

"Could be worse," replied Hermione half-heartedly. "Come on we'd better go, we've only got five minutes."

"Not without my bacon!" said Ron, and they left the table, Ron still stuffing his breakfast into his mouth.


	2. Caught

A huge thank you to my reviewers, especially if you've had the patience to stick around long enough for this chapter. Obviously I don't own any Harry Potter stuff, so la la la la la la la that is all I have to say   
Chapter 2 - Caught 

The day went well enough, considering the excessive amount of Snape Harry had to endure. He ignored Snape mostly, and allowed his mind to wander to other topics. Snape bullied him almost as bad as he did Neville, but Harry would just let his words wash over him, whilst thinking about Hermione. He tried to imagine them together, happy, but every time his nightmares would interfere, and he would end up worse than when he had started. At the end of the lesson, Snape decided that seeing as Harry hadn't paid enough attention, he would be the only one given any homework. They left for Charms, with Ron angrier than Harry about this move. In Charms, Harry was still in his own little world and accidentally set the rabbit he was supposed to be shaving on fire. Hermione quickly put it out, and it sat there smoking quietly while Hermione gave him a meaningful glance that said, _You're going to talk to me later._ Harry was given yet more homework.

When they got back to the common room, Harry collapsed into a chair and after a brief rest, pulled his Potions essay towards him. Hermione sat next to him and asked what was wrong.

"Hermione, what's the correct amount of Squishlepop pods for a Scapegoat Solution?"

"Harry, it's 4 adult pods, but you're avoiding the question!"

"Thanks Hermione. Hey, Ron, when's Quidditch practice start?"

"Harry, Hermione's asking you something."

"Yeah, and I'm asking YOU something!"

"Harry, what's wrong?" pleaded Hermione. "You won't talk to me, and you're mind is always a million miles from the task at hand! Please tell me what is going on!"

He looked up directly at her for the first time in weeks, and said quietly, "Isn't it obvious?"

Hermione seemed rather taken aback by this question, and Harry took his things and wandered up the staircase to the boys dorms, leaving her with a stunned expression on her face.

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Harry threw his things under his bed and collapsed to his knees, head in his hands. He was sorely tempted to cry, but he had done away with that a long time ago. It was no longer his way to deal with things. Instead he pulled out his knife and sat staring at it for a long time. He considered actually using it, something he had refrained from for fear that he would not be able to stop. **(A/N: Trust me this is true. If any of you even THINK of this, disregard it. Because seriously, if you DO start, you won't be stopping anytime soon.)** He thought about it for a while, then came to a decision. Just as he put the blade to his wrist, he heard footsteps outside and shouted goodnights. Hastily, he stuffed the knife back into his dresser and flung himself back onto his bed. As he hit the mattress, the door opened and Ron came in. He stopped short when he saw Harry hit the wall from his momentum.

"What were you doing?" Ron asked suspiciously. He took a few wary steps toward Harry. "You had it out, didn't you?"

Harry nodded slowly, trying to rub the feeling back into his shoulder.

Ron gave an exasperated sigh. "Harry! DON'T DO IT!"

"What? I didn't use it," he said innocently. "I was just looking at it."

"Don't scare me like that Harry! What would Hermione say if she knew!"

"I don't know, Ron! Why do you think I haven't told her!"

"JUST DON'T, OKAY!" Ron took a few breaths to calm himself down. "I'm going to sleep. I'll see you in the morning, and if I find you've even touched it, I'm going to tell Hermione you've got it."

He shut the curtains around his four-poster, leaving Harry to gape at where Ron's face had been a few seconds ago.

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Ron woke the next morning after a rather pleasant dream to find Harry already gone, most likely to breakfast. He pulled on his robes, splashed some water on his face and headed downstairs. He walked into the Great Hall to find it half-empty, with Harry sitting at the far end of the table, Hermione across from him. Judging from the way Hermione wasn't touching her food, but leaning over the table to Harry, and the way Harry wasn't answering and simply poking his food with his fork, suggested to Ron that Hermione was trying to persuade Harry to tell her what was wrong. He set off down the table to join them, and as he got closer he could hear them talking.

"… and I'm sure you would tell me if it was something small, so it has to be something big and important, so naturally I'm worried!"

"Don't be," Harry mumbled back.

"Just drop it for a while, Hermione. I'm sure Harry will tell us when he's ready." Ron sat down next to Harry, and pulled some toast and eggs towards him. "Mornin', by the way," he said eventually through a mouthful of toast.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Good morning to you too Ron, and it's just that I'm so worried about him, I can't just sit here and watch him suffer!"

"I'm not suffering," said Harry. "Just being murdered on the inside. You know, the really slow, painful way?"

"Not at all funny, Harry."

He shrugged offhandedly. "Yeah well, I never am. And seriously Hermione, I'll be fine!"

She stared at him for a while, hoping that he would wither and tell her what she wanted to know. But he just sat there, until he finally actually put some of his food in his mouth, and somehow that seemed to close the matter for Hermione.

"You'd better be," she whispered to herself. "You'd better be."


	3. Just Wanna Scream

Once again, I don't own anything at all, cept the plot, so no sueing shakes fist and I'm sorry it's so short. Thanx to everyone who's reviewed.

Chapter 3 – Just Wanna Scream 

Hermione went to the library at lunch that day, intending to get some assignments done, but she found herself staring at the same lines over and over again, not taking a word of it in. She couldn't tear her mind away from Harry, and in the end sat there thinking up ways to get him to talk about his problems.

She thought of hexing him, and refusing to perform the remedy until he told her, but she found that she didn't want to force him into it, especially like that. Besides, he'd only get pissed at her. Then she had the idea that she could get him to start a diary, and she could just so happen to stumble across it and read it, but that was invasion of privacy, and he'd get even angrier than her using force. The idea of getting him to write what he felt in a song or story sounded good, but she doubted he'd do that, and even if he did, she didn't think he'd let her see it.

Hermione sighed and closed her book with a dull thud. She couldn't work, not now. Her mind was in another world, and she didn't think it would be back for a while.

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Harry headed up to the Gryffindor common room after lunch, mumbling goodbyes to Ron and Hermione, who were going their separate ways. He approached the portrait hole with a rather depressive aura around him.

"Well, someone's feeling a little low today!" stated the Fat Lady plainly.

"Fuzzy Demon," muttered Harry.

"Are you sure you're okay, dear?" she asked him worriedly.

"I said Fuzzy Demon," Harry repeated.

The Fat Lady looked at him concernedly as her picture swung open on it's hinges. "Well, if you insist, but cheer up, you'll be fine!"

Harry climbed in through the archway now revealed by the portrait and marched right on up the staircase to his dormitory. He gradually gathered pace as he got closer, and ran the last few metres, slamming the door behind him. He leaned on it heavily, gasping for breath as a wave of horrible images collapsed into his mind. Suddenly Harry had the urge to just scream, run, get out, do whatever he could, to just do SOMETHING! He threw his bag across the room and tore down Dean's football posters. He ripped at curtain hangings, beat at the walls, screaming, and then just as suddenly, it ended, and he fell to his knees, crying uncontrollably. He wished the pain would just go away and leave him to die from the emotional wounds that were bleeding so badly.

Through his broken sobs, he whispered, "Why does it have to be like this? Why does it have to be me?"

llllllllllll

Hermione left the library and walked slowly back towards Gryffindor tower. She thought the whole way, about Harry, about Voldemort, about everything, but mainly Harry. She was so lost in thought that she walked right into the Fat Lady.

"Watch it!" she cried.

Hermione stuttered her apologies, but the Fat Lady batted them away. "Don't worry about it. Now then, password?"

"Fuzzy Demon."

Hermione entered the common room, hoping to go up to her dorm for a shower, but Seamus approached her halfway across the room.

"Hermione! I was hoping I'd find you, or Ron."

"Why? What is it, Seamus? What's wrong?"

"It's Harry," came the reply. "I don't know what he's done but it sounded serious, I didn't want to go in there but I thought he might listen to you."

Before he'd finished talking, Hermione was already at the foot of the staircase.


	4. Why do you do it?

Chapter 4 – Why do you do it?

Harry got up off the floor, wiping his eyes. He stumbled determinedly over to the dresser and pulled out his knife. He sat and looked at it as though it was his best friend for a brief moment, before putting it to his left wrist. He took a deep breath. Then he put as much force as he dared on it and pulled the sharp blade across the vein. Blood began to dribble along his arm, and it dripped off onto the mattress. He made no effort to stop the steady flow, but put the knife back into his dresser as though nothing had happened.

He sat back on the bed, and about two seconds later, the door burst open and Hermione came in. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the state of the room. She looked slowly around at the damage caused by Harry's outburst, before her gaze fell upon Harry's bed. She took in the emotionless expression, the blood on the mattress, the flow from his wrist. With tears in her eyes, Hermione went and sat next to him.

"Harry? she said tentatively, her voice trembling. "Why did you do this?"

Harry sat there silently, staring at the ground near Seamus' sock.

"Harry! Please! You at least owe me an explanation for this!"

Harry took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how to start this.

"I do it, because I'm… I'm scared," he said quietly, barely audibly.

Hermione was taken aback. Harry had never struck her as the type to be afraid of anything.

"Of what, Harry?" she whispered.

"Of what will happen if I try to live happily…"

Hermione was confused. "What do you mean, Harry? I don't understand."

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Ron was walking towards Dumbledore's office with Seamus. He was worried sick about Harry's obsession at looking at the knife, sitting there stroking it like a pet dog. He needed to do something, and so he was. He knocked on the Professor's door at the top of the spiral staircase and when it opened he launched into his story.

"Mr. Weasley, please, calm down. Come inside, sit down and tell me what's wrong at a speed at which I can hear separate words," interrupted Dumbledore with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Once they were inside and seated, Dumbledore spoke again.

"So, what is it that brings you to my office?"

"Well, I know I shouldn't really have the right to say it, but I needed to do something. I – I think Harry's going to kill himself!"

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"Harry, look at me."

He did. He looked up into the peaceful beautiful face that he had fallen in love with.

"Tell me what you mean."

Harry looked away. After a moment, he said, "I'm scared of the love I have, and what it could to the person I love."

Hermione gasped. He'd never told her anything about loving someone before.

"Who, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath, looked into her eyes and said –

A/N: HAHAHA, ur gonna have to keep reading now. Does he tell her? Find out in the next chapter. Sorry this one was so short by the way.


	5. You Mean Everything

Chapter 5 – You Mean Everything 

_And I could be,_

_The one who would die to feel you breath_

_I could break_

_Into a_

_Million pieces so_

_Just run as fast as you can for me,_

_You mean everything…_

_- Sevendust_

"You can't ever know. If I told you, it would kill you."

Hermione was lost. "How would it kill me? Harry, what is going on?"

Harry shook his head firmly. "I'm not dragging you into my problems, Hermione. I shouldn't have even brought this up in the first place. Just leave it Hermione, it's nothing to get worried about."

Hermione stood up and leaned over him so her face was almost touching his. "Harry, you are slitting your wrist. If this was something that I needn't worry about, you wouldn't be doing that."

"I only did it once!"

"Harry you still did it! You shouldn't have done it at all, you shouldn't have needed to, you shou-" she broke off and collapsed into his arms. Then she whispered into his ear, "Just please don't. You and Ron… you mean everything to me… I can't lose you… please Harry…"

He hugged her, half of him wishing that he could have this all the time, and the other half telling him that he was getting too close even with this small gesture. He cursed himself inside, swore at himself for being stupid. Why had he done this? From now on, it was going to be a lot harder to pretend.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back.

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Since the incident with Hermione, Harry had been under close supervision of Ron, who Harry suspected had been given orders by Hermione not to leave him alone. This became a problem because Harry could no longer have any peace, and was now unable to do anything on his own.

"For the last fucking time Ron, I can go to the toilet without dying!" yelled Harry one day, after Ron had tried to follow him to the bathroom for the fifth time.

"Yeah, well how do I know what you're up to?" Ron retorted.

"I'm not gonna do anything that I shouldn't be! I'll promise you that if it means you'll get off my back about it!"

Ron looked suspicious. "You promise?" he asked warily.

"Secret handshake on it!" Harry said firmly.

"Fine."

After that, Ron left Harry alone about it, which allowed Harry time to think, and every now and then, slit his wrists, elbows or anywhere that spilled blood. Sometimes he wondered if he was breaking his promise, but then he would remind himself that he had not promised not to cut, but that he wouldn't do anything he shouldn't do. In his mind, cutting wasn't something he shouldn't be doing, so as far as he was concerned, he was doing nothing to break his promise.

Harry soon found that unless he found a way to cover the scars and cuts in his body, people were going to notice that they were there. He went down to the Library one day in the hopes that they would have a book containing a healing or concealing spell of some sort. Saying good morning to Madam Pince on the way past, he walked to the shelf titled _Healing, Medicines and Antidotes_. He selected a few books and settled himself into a seat in a corner away from the main body of the Library.

He flipped open _Spells To Heal Physically Induced Injuries_ and began to scan through the contents. After searching the books he had selected and finding nothing, he returned them to their shelves and began to look for more helpful titles. AS he rounded the corner of the shelf, his eyes fell upon a small, dusty black book. He picked up and blew the dust off the cover to reveal the words _Spells For Suicidals and Self-Injurers _written in small red letters. Entranced by the new find, he returned to his chair in the corner and opened the book to the first page.

_Dear Reader,_

_Before we begin with the spells held within the pages of our works, we wish it to be known that the contents are intended only to **help** a sufferer in need. You will find nothing that could do any damage to or kill any reader. We do not wish death upon any person, for we believe that there is a different way to end all the pain that can be felt from life._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Taren Hasselford, Author, and Ender Calloback, Editor._

Harry was intrigued. He flicked slowly through the pages, taking in the pictures and explanations, the incantations and even potions, and eventually he stopped on a page that had a moving picture underneath a title, followed by a step by step guide as to how to perform the spell.

Harry thought for a moment before making up his mind. He walked over to the desk at the front to borrow the book. Madam Pince was busy making returned books sort themselves into piles according to category, and turned when she heard him approach.

"Well now, Mr. Potter, what can I do for you?" she asked briskly.

"I want to borrow this," he replied, placing the book in question on the desk.

She frowned slightly when she saw the title, and said, "Now why would need a book like this, Mr. Potter? I thought we'd gotten rid of these a long time ago, but apparently we missed a few…"

"I'm just studying it, no need to worry. And don't get rid of them, they could come in useful one day."

"Very well then, here you go, and need I remind you to take care of that. It may be a depressing book, but it's still a book. Damage it and you will be buying new copies."

"Of course," Harry quickly replied, and he hurried out of the Library and on towards his dormitory.

**A/N: **Thank you so much to all my reviewers, and terribly sorry about the massive cliffy at the end of last chapter, but it just had to be done. Hope you liked this chapter, and sorry about the long wait, I've been occupied with other things lately. Please Review, you know the drill by now!


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